


Ethnos Enkataleimménos

by Bam4Me



Series: 'I want that.' 'The boat?' 'No, the ocean.' [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ned Lives, Bran still falls, Catelyn Lives, Divergent Timelines, Gen, Jon gets Freaked Out about Life, Mance Lives, Panic Attacks, Robb Lives, TIMELINE MEANS NOTHING NONE OF THIS HAPPENS WHEN IT IS SUPPOSED TO I KNOW THAT, The North and South will go to war, Timeline What Timeline, Tormund is a dirty flirt, Ygritte lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 15:33:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10619868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bam4Me/pseuds/Bam4Me
Summary: The first voyage of the Ethnos Enkataleimménos, newly made ship to Jon Snow, your local social justice warrior.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Jon is a warg in this, as he gets closer to his own death (which will happen) he can feel it, and it's giving him SEVERE anxiety and he's freaking out a little.
> 
> Sam says in this, that they should get the Free Folk below the Wall to Jon's father in case a war happens. Jon says okay, but he doesn't actually ask them to fight for him, and the only reason why Mance would even entertain agreeing to it at all, is because Ned tells him that if they don't at least drive back the south (which is all he's asking, nothing more) then the south will get rid of them next. They'll fight for a place below the Wall, but that's it, they're not enlisting in a foreign war, because this is where they're going to be settling down in, they'll help.
> 
> littlesforfandom.tumblr.com

Jon came down to the crew’s breakfast the morning after they set sail. With a crew this small, there was no need for him to take his meals alone.

 

“Oi, what’s that puff ball following you, Captain?”

 

Jon looked down to see that Toad was right, and frowned when the little direwolf pup sat down right on his foot so it could go back to chewing on his boot. “Direwolf. Father found a nest of them up in the mountains one day, mother dead. He gave us all one.”

 

“Aww, what a cute little thing.”

 

“You know those fuckers end up bigger than humans, right?”

 

Jaren seemed to change his mind, blanching while he watched the captain pick up the little wolf and hand it to Sam, who seemed ready to feed it at least.

 

“Captain, a raven came for you this morning.”

 

“Where from?”

 

“Winterfell.”

 

Jon stopped in place, wondering why Winterfell would send word so soon after they left, but it makes sense, since a raven would have trouble finding them in open water later, and took the scroll out of Sam’s hands without pause.

 

He regretted that now a little. After reading the scroll three times, he abruptly stood up, no longer hungry, and left the room.

 

A couple of minutes later, someone knocked on his door, and he grunted for them to come in. Sam came in with Ghost under one arm, and a tray of food in his hands. “Is everything alright, Jon?”

 

It took some effort to force the words out. “My brother fell out of a window, he hasn’t woken up yet. My father is still going to be leaving for King’s Landing in a few day’s time.”

 

***

 

Jon was found later by Sam, who gave him an almost disapproving look. “Why are we on course for Lorath? We should be looking for the Black Wind to ask to borrow ships.”

 

Jon sighed. “We have shipments to pick up, and we have a dangerously low crew right now, Sam, I want to pick up as many possible sailors as we can. I know as a fact, that if we want more ships to help the wildlings above the Wall, the Fisher Prince has the ability to grant me as many as he sees fit. We’ll stay on course until we have enough ships to make a dent.”

 

Sam sighed. “This is why I told you you should ask the Black Wind for help.”

 

“What would Asha say if I  _ just _ got my commission and immediately had to ask for help? No, I’ll go to her and her brothers when I have enough ships that we can make it without them if they say no. More would be appreciated, but they’ll most likely say yes if they think I’m only asking to make things go faster.”

 

Sam looked a little anxious. “Alright, but it’s the right thing to do, and you know it.”

 

Jon looked suspicious now. “What are you not telling me, Sam?”

 

He was quiet for a minute, leaning against the railings till Jon motioned for another crew member to come up to the deck and take his spot behind the wheel. Hopefully, when they had more crew members, there would be enough that he could assign someone else to pilot. With a boat this big, a Captain’s biggest worries weren’t always standing behind a wheel.

 

He led Sam below the deck, and back towards his own office, letting them both in. Ghost wandered in after them, having been sitting on the lower deck, dejected at not being played with while the humans went about their business. “Okay, what’s got you so nervous that you think you need to give my father an army of a hundred thousand strong?”

 

“My own father, the last time I saw him, said he’d been talking to the Lannisters lately. He didn’t say this to me, of course, he was talking to my brother when I heard him, but he said that the South was going to get into a war to take over the North. Forgive me if the idea of my father being the warden of the North, makes me a little uneasy. I don’t like the idea of them going to war, but if any side was to win, I would rather it be your father, because he is honorable, and mine is… well, you know.”

 

Jon nodded. That made sense. He could feel his gut tightening a little at a sudden thought though. “When we get to Lorath, I need to send word to my father, he’s currently in the Capitol with my sisters. I’ll tell him to get out as soon as any sort of conflict arises. You’re right, he is honorable, and unfortunately, that means he won’t run unless he’s asked to.”

 

Sam was quiet for another few moments, before shifting uncomfortably. “You know, a few things could happen if a war were to come between the North and the South. Either we give your father this army, and he can beat them back until winter when they’re not dumb enough to try that again, or we give him this army, and we have to wipe them out. Or, I guess, we beat them back, and your father becomes the Northern king, like he should have been as his birthright, the head of the Stark family.”

 

Jon didn’t want to say it, but he had to. “And if we need to get rid of the nobility in the South?”

 

Sam shrugged. “Well, for all I damn well care, as long as they leave my mother and sister be, you could take the Iron Throne for all I care. Hell, give it to your brother if you want.”

 

Sam, obviously didn’t care if his father made it out of that one, but Jon shook his head. “No, I…” he couldn’t say that he didn’t have a birthright to the Iron Throne. He sat down sharply in his chair, blinking down at his fingers a few times while Sam looked concerned. “The South does not belong to the Starks. There is a Targaryen woman in Essos, the same age as me, and she has already proven herself a formidable conqueror. I believe, that if we give her the means to get across the Narrow Sea, she could take that throne.”

 

“See, all the more reason for you to build an armada.” Sam left the room again, looking a little smug, and Jon just sighed.

 

***

 

Speaking with the Fisher Prince was sort of weird. He was of the traditions of the Boash cult, but Jon couldn’t figure out if he actually followed it.

 

One good thing about that though, was that the Boash cult saw all beings as equal before their god, the Blind God. This meant that any sort of rescue mission for the people of Beyond, was seen as a good thing, and the will of their god to send Jon to them to ask for this.

 

Well, Jon’s not sure about all of that, but he has ten more ships, one of which is possibly the largest ship he’s ever seen in his life to hold up to a thousand passengers comfortably, and also, a short panic attack in his cabin, because, to be honest, he never thought he’d get this far in the first place.

 

He just wanted to sale the ocean, but Sam knew his weakness, he couldn’t leave people abandoned in a place like that, he just couldn’t do it.

 

He looked down at Ghost, who was sitting in his lap chewing on two of his fingers. He should probably discourage that around the time the dog started getting big enough to really do some damage. “You’re getting big.”

 

His cabin door opened up a little further and Sam let himself in, a satchel over his shoulder. “The Fished Prince wants to speak with us one more time before we leave.”

 

“Is he going to tell us we’re not allowed to have the ships?”

 

Sam shook his head. “No, he said he had something important to talk to us about before we attempt any sort of journey to Beyond.”

 

The Fisher Prince was waiting for them on dock, with two large crates next to him. In true Lorath style, he did not judge who could hear his words, only that the right ears heard them.

 

“You’ve asked to speak with us again?”

 

“A man wishes to warn another of the dangers that live in Beyond. There is a creature, not alive, but not still. It hunts.”

 

“What does it hunt.”

 

“It hunts all, in the same way that all are equal before God, all are equal before it. All that it hunts, become it.”

 

Jon and Sam looked at each other in concern, and Jon wondered what his friend had gotten him into. “So… it kills people, and uses their bodies to grow larger? Is it one entity?”

 

“It is many. All it kills.”

 

Jon looked down, letting out a curse that made Sam look at him funny, and looked back up to the Fisher Prince. The prince seemed to be watching him closely, though Jon could feel no judgement. Finally Jon sighed, as if giving in. “Alright, so apparently White Walkers are real, I was never sure if those were rumors I believed before, but okay. All the more reason not to add meat to their army. Is that all you wanted to warn us of?”

 

The Fisher Prince shook his head, before gesturing to one of the crates, that another man opened for him. “These are for your protection. Obsidian; we trade it for supplies, but it is the only weapon we have for you to defend yourself.”

 

Sam reached into one of the crates and pulled out a piece of pointed obsidian, shaped into a dagger. “Dragon glass. This will stop them?”

 

“Legend says, it will destroy them, the same as Valyrian steel, though that is much more rare.”

 

Sam let out a little hum, and Jon knew there was something for him to prod there before he stopped.

 

“My father has a Valyrian steel sword, he calls it Ice.”

 

Sam sighed. Apparently that was the thing he didn’t want to say. “My father has Heartsbane.”

 

Jon nodded with a sigh, knowing that he couldn’t just ask his father for Ice. Also, Ice was huge, and Jon wasn’t fully sure he could swing it nearly as well as his father could.

 

Jon pulled another piece out of the crate. “Is this a spearpoint?”

 

“Yes, it can be used as one.”

 

Well, at least that, he could work with.

 

***

 

Rodrik, Maron and Asha barely said a word about Jon’s proposal for several long minutes, giving him a funny look while he leaned against the edge of Maron’s desk, looking bored.

 

Finally, Asha spoke, “you, you want us to help bring all the wildlings below the Wall?”

 

Jon huffed once, shifting in his spot on the desk, and drawing Maron’s attention to wander, until Asha shoved her elbow deep into his side reprimanding. Jon snorted low, but kept his eyes down, pretending not to notice. He’s always pretended not to notice.

 

Rodrik sighed, ignoring both of them. “Jon, you know the Iron Islands don’t exactly expertise in  _ liberation _ , unless it’s the liberation of goods and gold-”

 

“Do I look like I care?”

 

“...no. Why do you want them free anyways, they’re just a bunch of rapers and raiders.”

 

“That’s fancy fuckin talk from a pirate, don’t you think? I thought the point of piracy was the idea of all men being free?”

 

Rodrik just sighed again. Jon actually has a history of getting into a fuss when faced with slaves. “You know, the Iron Islands takes slaves.”

 

Jon nodded. “Yes, I do know that, and I wonder how my lord father, warden of the North, who has banned slavery, would think of that.”

 

Maron looked surprised. “You would tell him?”

 

“Well, I could tell him, or you could keep me occupied with the idea of a long, quiet, rescue mission, but, well, that’s as good an idea as anything really.”

 

Rodrik looked annoyed, Maron still surprised, and now Asha was the one who was bored. “When did you become such a brat?”

 

“You’re a fuckin hypocrite, all of you,  _ pi-rate _ . What part of that says  _ honest _ or  _ plays fair _ ? Will you help or not?”

 

“Fine.”

 

***

 

The Northern waters were cold. Colder than water had a right to be.

 

“Make sure to steer clear of Skagos, we don’t want any of the natives to decide they like our ship enough to crash us.”

 

The man behind the wheel nodded. “Aye, Captain.”

 

Jon looked around for Sam, who was still looking at the different obsidian weapons. He was tucked up under the upper deck at the opening of the hallway that lead to the crew’s cabins, away from the wind. Some of Jon’s crew were taking the cold better than others, like Jon, who had grown up with it, but with them all properly wrapped up, they seemed functional at least.

 

Sam hated the cold, having grown up in the South. Jon stopped next to where he was working, and noticed that Sam had Ghost laying across his legs, and snorted, hoping that would at least keep him warm.

 

“Do you think the wildlings will welcome us if we come bearing gifts?”

 

Sam shrugged. “Well, if they really kill White Walkers like they said they do, then hopefully. We’ll find out in a few days, anyways.”

 

“If this works, how long do you think it will take to relocate them?”

 

Sam thought that over. “Well, it takes a week to sail around the East-Watch-By-The-Sea so they don’t figure out what we’re doing, so maybe just over a week for each load of them. We have enough ships that we could probably transport about ten thousand at a time. It will be a little crowded on all the ships, but I think it’ll be worth it to get it all done in only ten trips or so.”

 

Jon sighed, sinking down the wall to sit next to Sam on the floor. “You think they’ll take the offer?”

 

Sam looked at him like he was an idiot. “I think they’ve been trying to get the Night’s Watch to let them below the Wall since it was  _ created _ , over eight thousand years ago. I think they’d be stupid not to.”

 

“Well, showing up on their doorstep with this many ships, doesn’t it look kind of like an army coming to tear them down?”

 

“We’ll hide as many of the ships as we can until we know they’ll at least listen to us, but some might still run. Hopefully, word will get around there’s someone to help them get below the Wall.”

 

Jon couldn’t help this foreboding feeling in the pit of his stomach. Not exactly like he was walking into a trap, but like he was getting close to one. He still couldn’t figure out what was wrong with this though.

 

***

 

When the ship got to Hardhome -only their ship, all the rest were hiding around the bend with only a few others visable, trying not to startle- it was eerily silent. Jon went down the ladder on the side of the boat into the rowboat, where Sam, Edd and Asha joined him. He’d thought about asking Maron and Rodrik to come too, but they already seemed annoyed with him right now.

 

Sam didn’t have nearly as good of eyesight as he did, but Jon could already see most of the people closest to them on the shore, were readying weapons. “Lively bunch.”

 

Asha gave him a bland look, begrudgingly scooting over when the last person from her own ship got there. Not even pirates liked being strongheld into things, even if she did agree with him for once.

 

When they were halfway towards the shore, Jon chanced a look over at Asha to see her staring right back at him, making him feel distinctly uncomfortable. “So, this is fun, we should do this more often.”

 

Asha’s eyes narrowed. “If this goes badly, and  _ they _ don’t kill you, I will.”

 

Jon twitched a little. “And if it doesn’t go badly?”

 

She smirked. “Jon, if this doesn’t go badly, you’ll be the most wanted man in the seven kingdoms,  _ someone _ will kill you for me.”

 

It was a threat, but it was a loving one. He could tell. Well, he was pretending at least. Oh how nice it was to be close to those you grew up with.

 

***

 

This was, by far, one of the most awkward meetings Jon has ever been in.

 

He looked between the funny smelling drink they had given him, and Mance Rayder, the leader of the ‘Free Folk’ peoples. It made sense, he guesses, they probably didn’t like being called wildlings.

 

Jon cringed. “Do I know you? I feel as though I’ve seen you before.”

 

Mance sat back, looking way too amused. “Aye, I’m sure if ya think real hard it might come back to ya.”

 

Jon sighed. He wasn’t very good with faces actually, he just knows he’s seen him before. “Uh… I think I saw you sometime before we set sail, so the last chances I would have gotten were at the Harbor or… Winterfell…” Oh.

 

Mance gave him a bland look. “Winterfell, the home of your lord father, huh?”

 

Jon cringed, looking away. “It’s not like I’m the first son of a lord to go pirating. Asha’s father claims to be king, Sam’s father is a high lord in the south.”

 

Mance shook his head, amused. “No. But if it was just them, I’d have been blunt with them, probably sent them running by now. I’m not gonna be blunt with you, boy. It’s not often a Stark comes to the North and demands a seat with the king, and it’s not something a king will take lightly.”

 

Jon looked up, and regretted it, eyes caught in Mance’s own. “I’m not a Stark.”

 

“The North doesn’t give a damn if you’re a bastard or not, their blood is what it wants.”

 

Jon wasn’t sure if that was a threat or not. Were they planning on sacrificing him or something? “And when a Stark comes to ask for an audience with the king? Is that celebration?”

 

“Depends on the Stark. But at least I’m willing to listen.”

 

Jon deflated, relieved. “We want to use our ships to move all of you below the Wall.”

 

Mance seemed honestly surprised. “That is a proposition, I haven’t heard that one before.”

 

“Yeah… none of you have ever tried sailing out of here?”

 

Mance’s look turned bland. “On what? Until a hundred years ago, there were so many brothers of the Night’s Watch, there was no wood to build because they’d come out chopping down our trees. So we don’t have many good sailors, any time we get close, the East-Watch destroys what we’ve got.”

 

Jon nodded. “Well, thankfully, we’ve got quite a few of them.”

 

“How fast could you do it?”

 

“How many people do you have?”

 

“Over a hundred thousand.”

 

Jon turned to look over at Sam, who shrugged. “Maybe twelve trips at most? If he has over a hundred thousand, it’ll take a while. Each trip would take about a week, hoping that everyone can be ready to go as soon as the boats get back.”

 

Jon looked back to Mance, and frowned, seeing he still looked suspicious. “If we can do it, why not take it?”

 

Mance cocked his head to the side. “People don’t do things for free very often. What do you want from us?”

 

Jon could feel a pit deep in his stomach, and almost felt lightheaded for a second, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He  _ wished _ he could say he wanted nothing in return, but if Sam was right, he would need them. “I want to say we don’t want anything from you. When I was first told you were he, I could have honestly told you I wanted nothing, and I still would have given it my all to get you below the Wall.”

 

“But something’s come up?”

 

“The South. They want to start a war, and I fully think the Lannisters are dumb enough to try. The only issue is, if they succeed, it’s not just  _ my lord father _ who’s going to be run out or killed, it’s every chance the Free Folk have ever had to stake their claim on anything below this Wall, and it’s whatever you’re facing up here that’s going to be the end of you.”

 

“So, it’s fight for our lives below this wall, or it’s fight for our lives from the Walkers?”

 

“At least no one below the Wall will come back to life if you kill them. Not only that, but if you become a part of the Seven Kingdoms, which, includes, possibly, getting a pardon from the  _ warden of the North _ , the Night’s Watch can’t touch you, and neither can anyone else, for you’ll be a part of the North.”

 

“And you think the warden of the North is going to want to pardon us?”

 

Jon shrugged. “Well, to be fully honest, I’ve yet to meet a man more horrible at saying no to his children than my father.”

 

Mance smirked, amused. He obviously remembered the lord of Winterfell. “That’ll help.”

 

Jon looked back over to Sam and suddenly remembered something, taking the offered bag from him. “Before we start, we have a gift for you, from the Fisher Prince of Lorath-”

 

“Who?”

 

Jon opened up the bag with an odd look on his face. “Uh, it’s not important, he helped provide a lot of the ships to help us move the Free Folk, he and his people want to see you all safe below the Wall. They told us about the White Walkers before we left, and gave us two crates of this- obsidian. Dragon glass, whatever you want to call it. Legend says it will kill White Walkers. We don’t know this for ourselves, we’ve never had to deal with them, but we hope they will be of use.”

 

He handed over the flinted arrowhead to the king beyond the Wall, who took it with a cautious eye, thumbing over the sharp edges with care. “I’m not sure if those rumors are true as well, but it can old help.”

 

***

 

Jon didn’t know why the halfgiant kept following him around.

 

“Sam, why am I being followed?”

 

Sam looked past Jon’s shoulder to see a giant man standing on the deck, leaning against one of the rails of the ship, arms crossed as he looked right at Jon from a good distance of twenty or so feet away from him. “I think Mance told that one to follow you to make sure you’re not planning anything, since he’s staying behind to convince others to go.”

 

Jon groaned, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Well, at least we’ll be rid of him when we dock.”

 

“No, you won’t be, Mance wants me watching you the whole way, just to make sure nothing is wrong.”

 

Jon took a sharp turn around in surprise, watching the big man with wide eyes. “What, do you have the hearing of a hawk?”

 

He shrugged. “Something like that. Call me Tormund.”

 

Jon gaped at him for a few seconds before Sam squeezed by both of them. “You two just, make friends, I have some things to do… not here.”

 

Jon rolled his eyes, looking up at the man, now closer. “Why do I need watching?”

 

Tormund looked him up and down real slow in a way that made Jon’s face heat up in the sharp cold. “Well, I don’t mind watchin, if that’s what’s got ya upset.”

 

Jon gaped at him for a few more moments, entirely unsure what to say to that, before finally scoffing. “You, you pig.”

 

He turned around and left back to his office, ignoring the warm feeling in his stomach, and the loud laughing behind in still on deck. It wasn’t until he was sitting behind his desk with Ghost whining at him for attention, that he realized Tormund hadn’t answered his question.

 

***

 

The next Free Folk Jon had the pleasure of meeting, was Ygritte. She was the appointed head of the spearwives on this particular journey, and had even said she was thinking about staying aboard when they dropped off the rest of them at the harbor. Jon almost wanted to take that as a threat, but he’s pretty sure she doesn’t mean it that way.

 

“When she introduced Mayah-”

 

Tormund grunted once in thought. “As her wife, yeah?”

 

“Does that mean she’s one of the other spearwives, or her life partner?”

 

Tormund seemed to think that one over for a minute, before nodding. “Yes.”

 

Well, that was helpful, thanks. “Okay, who else said they wanted to talk to me this morning?”

 

It was over halfway to the harbor on the other side of the Wall, they’d be there in less than two days. They’ve even gotten word that two ships -much smaller, faster ships- have already gotten there.

 

The Free Folk have been asked to wait till they have a group large enough to be considered protective before heading inland for Winterfell, but all of them at least had enough people who knew where Winterfell was to make it there.

 

“Four young Thenns.”

 

Jon gave Tormund an odd look. “I thought you hated Thenns?”

 

Tormund shrugged, lazily sprawled against the railing of the ship on top of a crate, taking apart an apple with a knife and a bored look. “They’re young. They get more fuckin annoying with time, that’s for sure, the young ones aren’t as bad.”

 

Jon nodded, deciding to hell with it, he might as well. “And they want to stay on the ship as well?”

 

Tormund grunted. “Probably? I don’t know, I wasn’t paying much attention. I do know, that the Free Folk are no seafaring kind, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a few people who know what’s going on. They looked like good enough lads, I’m sure.”

 

Jon shrugged, feeling a little light headed. “Fine, fine, I’ll talk to them about it later, but tell them yes. I need to go, uh, do something.”

 

Jon left for the lower decks with a flourish, somehow managing to avoid others all the way to his office before getting in and sitting behind his desk. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until he had his head between his knees, that he realized he was followed.

 

Tormund shut the door to the room and quietly crept to the other side, kneeling down in front of Jon with a frown. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he was starting to get the feeling that Jon honestly didn’t mean them any harm.

 

“I never would have thought you’d have a fit at your ship being used this long. Why are you even helping us if it freaks you out so much?”

 

Jon took a few breaths before pulling back up to look at him. “That’s not why I’m freaking out. I… I think… It feels like I’m walking to my own execution, and I haven’t the slightest clue why.”

 

Tormund’s eyes fell, face twisting into a scowl. “Yet, you’re still here.”

 

Jon watched him curiously, a hand coming out to touch Tormund’s forearm. “Sometimes, I make a decision, and it feels like that will take me further away from danger. Like I won’t get killed if I go there. But, it’s never the right decision. None of you should  _ have _ to live above the Wall, and I’m going to do what I can to get you below it, all of you, but that doesn’t feel good. I can feel the noose tightening. That doesn’t mean I won’t do this, though.”

 

Tormund gave Jon a long look, and suddenly, Jon felt a hand clasp down on the back of his neck, making Jon still. “I think you have some sort of anxiety issue. I used to know a Hornfoot who was afraid to leave the valley. He said it was death outside. I wasn’t sure what he was on about, but I’m sure something kept him there.”

 

“Just because I don’t feel safe, doesn’t mean I won’t keep going.”

 

“I know, Jon Snow. I know.”

 

***

 

“And this is the last of them?”

 

Sam nodded. “Well, as much as there is left, to be honest. There are still five more ships left, but they’ll all be here within a day or so. We on the other hand, need to leave for Winterfell with Mance  _ now _ , there are horses waiting for us in the harbor as soon as we dock, and if we ride to their limits, we can get to Winterfell just before the first group of Free Folk get there and stop them from thinking they’re being attacked.”

 

Jon could only think about how well that was going to go. With Ned still down in King’s Landing, it was going to be a bit of a stretch to convince Catelyn not to think this is a siege, if only for his dislike of him, but he’d try.

 

It was nearly five days later when they were getting to Winterfell, at the same time as a horde of over ten thousand was getting there too. They’ve passed several hordes by now, luckily, they’ve encountered almost no one willing to attack them, and the only one that had been attacked, was easily big enough to fend them off.

 

Apparently though, their arrival in Winterfell seemed to happen at the same time as Ned Stark’s return from the Capitol with the girls.

 

Jon ended up right outside the gates of Winterfell as Ned was pulling up with a caravan behind them, and could feel his stomach drop as he saw all the guards in the group drawing weapons on them. Ned saw Jon getting off his horse, and told them to stand down and open up the gates.

 

“Jon, what is this?”

 

Jon looked behind him and saw that it really didn’t look very good right now, wincing. Mance and Tormund were pulling up behind him with Sam a little ways off, and just past, a horde of white dressed weaponized people.

 

Jon looked back at Ned, who had stopped his horse next to him, and let out an od noise. “What happened to your leg?”

 

Ned looked down at the white bandages Jory had tied on top of his trousers that morning when the day before there had been a threat of the wounds opening because of him being on horseback.

 

“Jaime Lannister with a spear, is what happened.”

 

Jory came over to help him down from the horse, and gave him a cane to lean against. It was the only thing that kept Jon from hugging him, not wanting to send him to the ground. “Why have you returned from the Capitol so soon?”

 

Ned gave the approaching horde a long look, before looking back down at his son. “King Robert is dead, Cersei Lannister has taken over the Capitol. We’re lucky we all made it out before she could take any of us prisoner.”

 

Jon frowned, watching the rest of the group dismount. Arya and Sansa were still there, looking haggard and upset, but still there, and there was a young teen boy with them. “Who’s that?”

 

Ned looked back over to see Gendry helping Ayra down from a horse that was too tall for her to do herself. “Robert’s bastard son, who would probably be dead if his master hadn’t caught onto who he was and asked me to take him.”

 

Ned Stark really was too good for these people.

 

“What have you gotten yourself into, Jon?”

 

Jon cringed, looking back to Mance with a frown. “Uh, it might be best if we talk about that inside.”

 

***

 

Jon was in the Godswood when Ned found him later on that day, after a long morning of talking with Mance. Jon didn’t know anything about war, he left the two of them to it.

 

“You really know how to surprise your father, Jon.”

 

Jon gave him a little smile, not looking away from the rippling waters. “I try… do you really think the south will try to go to war with us?”

 

Ned sat down next to him, awkwardly on his hurt thigh. “I think the only reason I’m alive right now, is because Lord Varys warned me she was going to try something and convinced me to leave so fast. I don’t know how soon it will happen, but Cersei Lannister is no fool, she will try.”

 

Jon sighed, over at Ned again. Once Ned’s shock over the Free Folk had worn off, he’d at least agreed to help them. “Well, at least you have them now. She would be a fool just to  _ try _ .”

 

Ned nodded. “How long will you be staying now?”

 

Jon frowned, a little sad. “I’ll be leaving in the morning. Tell me, do you trust Lord Varys?”

 

Ned considered that. “Well, I trusted him with my life when I was told to get out of the Capitol. I think he’s truly honest when he says he serves the realm and it’s people.”

 

Jon nodded. “Good. He’s asked me to come to the Capitol to pick up a crate waiting for me in the harbor. I’ve no idea what it is, but he says it’s urgent. My ship will be arriving in the harbor here sometime tomorrow, so we’ll set off in the morning to catch it.”

 

“I hope you’re planning on taking me with you.”

 

They both looked up to see Tormund walking into the Godswood, a raised eyebrow at both of them. Jon frowned. “Your people are free now, you don’t need to follow me.”

 

Tormund shrugged. “I’ve grown to like you somewhat, that’s not something to take lightly.” He gave Jon the same look he had when Jon had told him about his thoughts of impending doom, and Jon thought he understood.

 

Maybe. He didn’t pretend to understand anything Tormund did, to be honest, but he gave the man a slow nod. “Of course, thank you.”

 

Ned looked between the two of them suspiciously, and Jon decided to change the subject before Tormund could say anything that might indicate just  _ how _ much he liked Jon, according to his own bad ideas that he seemed to delight in sharing with Jon at any moment since meeting him. Jon doesn’t think his pride could handle it if Ned thought he might need to defend Jon’s honor in any way, and Jon knew Tormund would delight in baiting the man.

 

Jon looked back over at Ned and smiled. “Don’t worry, father, we’ll be back as soon as we can. You have Mance now, and I trust he won’t do anything to turn on you.”

 

“He’s already agreed, that if anything happens to Winterfell, the south will go after them too. If all goes well, they’ll all be pardoned and given lands to live on between the Wall and here.”

 

Jon smiled, feeling that pit in his stomach lessen a little for the first time in weeks. “Thank you.”

 

Ned snorted, shaking his head. “I should really be the one thanking you.”

 

Jon didn’t reply to that, leaning in for a hug instead, wondering when the next time he’d be able to see Ned was. He really loved his ship, but he wished he could see his family more often.

 

He wasn’t going to be able to come back before they went to war though. Now was the time for them to finally go to Meereen and meet Daenerys. If the North and South were going to go to war, there would be no better time to strike and get rid of the Lannisters entirely, than if they had her.

 

He just hoped she still wanted the throne at all.

**Author's Note:**

> littlesforfandom.tumblr.com


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